


While You Sleep

by Papillon87



Series: Dorm Diaries [4]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Canon, Dongmin can't sleep, Established Relationship, Fluff, Late at Night, M/M, Slice of Life, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillon87/pseuds/Papillon87
Summary: ‘Min?’Bin is standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. The sleepiness is still softening his features, turning his voice languid.‘Can’t sleep?’Dongmin clutches the mug a little tighter. ‘Sorry, Binnie. Have I woken you up?’‘No,’ Bin shuffles through the kitchen and slides onto the chair next to him. ‘I can feel when you’re not there.’....................................
Relationships: Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin
Series: Dorm Diaries [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1197385
Comments: 16
Kudos: 101





	While You Sleep

He always wakes up in the middle of the night.

Dongmin pushes off the covers and stares at the ceiling. There is no reason to stress about it; it happens almost every night, like clockwork, and he is determined not to count how many hours he has left until morning.

For a while, he tosses and turns, his thoughts running endlessly in circles. The dance practice tomorrow; he promised Jinjin he would look at some of his lyrics tomorrow; he needs to find his phone charger-

The pillow under his cheek is too warm and he turns it over. The instant relief of a cool touch of cotton on his face is short-lived, however. Within minutes it’s back to square one.

The light from a streetlamp right in front of their window filters through the blinds and paints a stripy pattern on the wardrobe, turning its cheap plywood into a faintly mysterious object, lurking in the corner.

Outside, a car drives past. Its headlights push through the gaps between the blinds and sweep over the ceiling, a dramatic burst of rays, a moment of excitement that doesn’t seem to make any sense in the middle of the night; then it’s semi-darkness again.

Next to him, Bin curls up in a ball and mutters something in his sleep, a soft whimper, a wordless protest, then goes limp again.

Dongmin watches him, the breadth of his shoulders softened by the thick folds of the blanket. He almost stretches his hand and traces the curves of Bin’s body, just to feel something - _anything_ in the emptiness of the small hours - but he doesn’t. They have a busy day tomorrow and if he can't sleep, well, that’s his problem, not Bin’s.

Maybe a hot drink would help. It wouldn’t be the first time that he found himself in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and looking for his favourite herbal tea.

He slips out of bed, careful not to make too much noise, trying his best not to wake Bin.

In the kitchen, the bright light almost blinds him for a moment. He hisses at his own stupidity and hastily turns if off. Cursing under his breath, he flicks on the small light above the hob, then fills the kettle.

In the empty, cavernous space, the bubbling of water sounds ridiculously amplified. Or maybe it’s the silence that’s wrapping its soft tendrils around everything in the silvery darkness and regards Dongmin like an impostor – watch out, you late-night pilgrim, don’t destroy the peace and quiet I’m creating here. Can't you hear the beautiful silence?

Wincing inwardly and almost apologising – to whom, Dongmin is not quite sure – he throws a tea bag in his favourite mug and carefully fills it with hot water.

The dining table in the middle of the room looks ridiculously big and empty when he sits down.

(And a little sad. Dongmin thinks massive tables seem lonely without laughter and plates full of food - and without people. There should be a ban on empty, lonesome tables.)

He warms his icy fingers on the mug, inhaling the bitter aroma. Whatever the concoction is, it promises ‘sweet dreams’ and although Dongmin is almost positive it’s just placebo, the fragrance, familiar and weirdly soothing, manages to calm him down.

‘Min?’

He spins around.

Bin is standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. The sleepiness is still softening his features, turning his voice languid.

‘Can’t sleep?’

Dongmin clutches the mug a little tighter. ‘Sorry, Binnie. Have I woken you up?’

‘No,’ Bin shuffles through the kitchen and slides onto the chair next to him. ‘I feel it when you’re not there.’

Dongmin smiles a little. ‘That’s not true. You sleep like a log.’

Bin chuckles, a sleepy, quiet sound. He leans forward and rests his head against Dongmin’s shoulder, closing his eyes immediately.

‘Binnie,’ Dongmin buries his face in Bin’s hair. ‘Go back to bed.’

‘Don’t wanna go to bed without you,’ mumbles Bin into his skin, words blurred by sleep.

‘I will drink my tea and come back. Go. You gonna freeze here like this.’

Bin doesn’t respond to that, merely inches closer and presses against Dongmin’s side, wrapping his arms around him.

Dongmin hisses as two cold hands find heir way under his t-shirt. He almost scolds Bin for his stubborn insistence on sleeping only in his boxers but in the last second, he keeps his mouth shut.

(He likes being able to touch Bin’s skin at night, the reassuring softness and warmth of it. He never says it out loud though. Certain things always come out wrong when spoken aloud, he finds.)

‘Go to bed, Binnie,’ he whispers into the warm, soft strands that are tickling his nose. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘No,’ Bin rubs his forehead against Dongmin’s shoulder. ‘Come with me. You can drink your tea in bed.’

Suddenly, the prospect of their warm bed with Bin in it sounds very appealing.

‘Ok,’ he kisses Bin’s temple. ‘Fine. Let’s go.’

Back in the bedroom, he sets the tea on the bedside table and slides into bed after Bin. Propping himself against the headboard, he carefully grips the mug and takes the first tentative sip.

‘Is something wrong, Min, or just the usual?’

Bin snuggles to his side, voice soft around the edges.

‘Just the usual,’ Dongmin runs his hand up and down Bin’s back. ‘Don’t worry about it, Binnie.’

Bin sighs and Dongmin can feel his body relaxing. He savours the velvety feel of Bin’s skin, the warmth that seeps slowly into his perpetually cold fingers.

The tea is lukewarm by now. He half-heartedly gulps down a little and puts the mug away. Maybe the recipe for a good night’s sleep is not his collection of herbal brews. Maybe he needs something altogether different.

The pillow, when he lies down, doesn’t feel too warm anymore. Next to him, Bin is asleep again, his breathing slow, regular, his arm still stretched towards Dongmin, but the fingers now lax with sleep.

Dongmin shuffles lower until they lie face to face. He watches Bin’s eyelashes quiver with dreams hidden behind them, maybe nice ones, or perhaps one of the nightmares that sits heavily on one’s chest and leaves a bitter aftertaste in the morning.

He stretches his hand and touches Bin’s shoulder.

Bin’s eyes fly open and Dongmin hastily withdraws his hand. ‘Sorry, Binnie, didn’t mean to wake you-‘

Bin smiles sleepily, taking Dongmin’s hand in his own. He presses it against his chest, right where Dongmin can feel the quiet thrumming of Bin’s heart.

‘Sleep, Min,’ he whispers before his eyes fall shut again.

And Dongmin does.


End file.
